Bryan is the man of my dreams. Those thrilling, blood rushing, heart pounding joys of just holding his hand have settled. They've settled into a steady, dependable, deeper love. I pray, often, to love him more. That God would make up the love I lack in my heart. And today I thought, I need to look harder for Valentine gifts, the gifts of love scattered through the ordinary.
Bryan has a few plans for Valentine's Day. This weekend I'm not looking for roses on the table. I'm not waiting for his heart poured out in poetry. I'm not expecting diamonds or pearls, and certainly not hearts crafted in gold (because I probably wouldn't really like that anyway). I won't be disappointed that I don't have to dress for dinner.
I want to teach my heart to see that love is his hand on my back in the kitchen, he hasn't forgotten me in the rush. Love is Bryan stretching out, warming my side of the bed before I get in, thinking of me. Love is folded towels, unexpectedly neat on the dryer. Love is a child he quietly corrects when I want to throw up my hands and roll my eyes. Love is playing my favorite game, for the thousandth time, pretending he's having fun. Love is stopping by Starbucks when I haven't even hinted, or whined, or asked, or begged, or cajoled, or bargained.
In Isaiah 41:20 God says eyes of faith need training to see Him acting in love as well,
That they may see and recognize,
And consider and gain insight as well,
That the hand of the LORD has done this,
And the Holy One of Israel has created it.
If we think our heart sees what our eyes see, we're mistaken. Our eyes can look long on the world and not recognize the hand of God. Faith looks around and carefully considers how a good God is working and the heart gains insight.
Like Valentine's Day. If I think a red rose is the only proof of love, I'm mistaken. I can't recognize love laid out before me. I'm looking today with an eye for love, love of a man and the love of my God.